Commence Operation Head Explosion: Top Secret

This August I plan on pulling ahead in delegates for the position of Mom of the Year.

My Mom called me the other day to ask me if we'd like to use my Aunt's extra week at her timeshare condo in Orlando.

I hemmed and hawed about it (per usual).

The money, Jim getting someone to cover the store, boarding the dogs...

Then I realized that we'd be stupid not to do it.

We're getting the timeshare for $150 for the whole week. From what my Mom told me, it's a really nice "resort" type place.

But that's not the best part.

All we're going to tell the girls is that we are "going on vacation with Grandma", just as we have done in years past. They'll be so distracted by all the pools and playing, they won't expect what's coming next.

For the first part of the week, it'll be just the girls, my Mom and I. And for the first couple of days, it'll be just hanging out swimming.

Then we're going to spring the "We're going to Sea World!" spiel on 'em. I looked at the website, and I'm certain they're not going to want to leave that place.

A few days into the trip, Jim is going to show up and surprise the girls.

And it gets better...

Two (or maybe three) days at Disney World!

We took Mina a couple years ago, and she hasn't stopped talking about it since. Audrey was too little to really get anything out it at the time, but she has slowly realized what she missed out on.

The best part of the whole trip is that the girls will have no idea what's going on until we are en route to it.

I've always been such a cynical bitch about certain things, but there is nothing like showing your kid the Mecca that is Disney World for the first time

It's going to be hard to keep this under wraps until August, but it will be SO worth it when I see their faces.

Seven things you don't know about me (a few a which you might wish you didn't)

I hate having my face touched--by anyone. It creeps me out to no end. A back-o-the neck grab while I'm making out is fine and dandy. Just don't touch my face. I don't even like it when my children touch my face (mostly because I know where their hands have been).

I love makeup. I love what it can do (and have learned over the years what it can't do). I have a "set" way I like to wear my makeup, but I change it up depending on my outfit and/or my mood. I'm sure no one notices, but I do and mine is the only opinion that matters in this arena.

I can't go underwater without plugging my nose. I have an unwavering aversion to even trying it. My mother told me that when I was an infant I could swim like a fish. I have no idea where or when I lost that ability.

I love being alone. I don't get a whole lot of time by myself, but when I do I cherish it. An afternoon alone without an agenda is the best gift anyone could give me.

I try to avoid crying in front of people at all costs. I don't know why. I can probably count on one hand the number of times I've shed tears (during my adult life) in front of anyone else. I'm not a robot. I do cry. I just don't like company when I do.

The first time I had sex was so awful and disappointing that I didn't do it again for another three years. Then I made up for lost time.

When I was pregnant with my first child, I read somewhere that some women poop while pushing the baby out. I told Jim about it and we laughed and laughed. He said that if I pooped, he was going to start dancing around the room singing, "YOU POOPED! YOU POOPED!". We laughed some more.

I did end up pooping on the delivery table. He did not sing.

Regret meme

Katie tagged me with this one: You’ve just learned that tomorrow you will die at sunrise. Tell me the five things you regret and the five things you don’t.

The Don't Regrets:

1. I don't regret starting a blog. Though I was hesitant at first (who the fuck am I that anyone else wants to read about my take on stuff?), I'm glad I hopped on the bandwagon. It wasn't until I re-found Grant Miller digging around on the internets that I seriously considered it (read: you can blame him for this amalgam of whoosit).

I've since (both virtually and actually) met some new friends through it, and not one restraining order has since been filed. In two days, it will have been one full year since I started Better Living Through Bacon. And it's been delicious.

2. I don't regret having children. In my younger years, I honestly didn't think I would. I didn't think I had it in me to take on the responsibility and set aside my own selfish tendencies.

It's not perfect, and sometimes (all the time) I question my capabilities. Having children has tested my sanity in ways I never thought possible. If they weren't so damn cute, I'd have sold them to the gypsies years ago.

With the difficult however comes the amazing. The adoration that oozes from them all over my husband and I is payment enough for every sleepless night, every splatter of poop, and every puddle of puke (of course, they aren't teenagers yet).

Knowing that I have two mini-humans counting on me to keep my shit together gives me reason enough to try and be a better person.

3. I don't regret quitting my job as a hairstylist almost three years ago. I miss doing hair sometimes, but I don't miss hauling my kids around to get to work for a paycheck that was barely covering expenses incurred from working. How sad that it sometimes cost me money to go to work?

4. I don't regret being slutty in college. I would never buy a pair of shoes without trying them on first no matter how gorgeous or cheap they were. Some people learn by seeing or being shown. I learned by trying every pair of shoes in the shoe store.

Sure, I got my heart broken more times than I'd like to admit and maybe I should have listened to that inner voice a little more often. In the long run however, I can't say that I regret any of it (OK, maybe a couple of them).

5. I don't regret going on crazy pills. This is a recent development here in the land of salty meat, and not something I ever planned on talking about here, but there you have it.

I spent way too long ignoring the unignorable. I had myself convinced that everyone felt the way I did. They just didn't talk about it. I was wrong.

My only regret is that I didn't deal with it sooner.

The Do Regrets:

1. I regret never living alone. I went from living at home to the dorms to having roommates to getting married. I never got to enjoy the kind of freedom one has knowing a space is all one's own. I missed my opportunity to do it when I could, and until my kids move out and my husband decides to get a trophy wife, I'm SOL.

2. I regret not finishing college. I could always go back, but time and money don't grow on trees. It's always in the back of my mind though. Someday.

3. I regret not cutting poisonous people out of my life sooner. Whether it was a bitchy friend who never had anything positive to say or a loser boyfriend who couldn't tell the truth to save his life, I regret not having the balls to tell them where to go. I always seemed to fall into that trap of not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings even when the situation made me miserable. I know better now.

4. I regret not standing up for myself when I should have. I spent way too much time in my young adulthood not asking for what I wanted and/or needed. As hard and tough as I thought I was back then, that girl in her twenties would cower in front of the woman I have turned out to be.

5. I regret not owning my actions earlier in life. I also spent the better part of my 20's spending too much time blaming others for my own mistakes. With age has come the realization that I am responsible for my own choices and the fallout--and that that's not a bad thing. This to me is what led me to come to grips with my Atheism (after a whole life of being raised in a religious household).

I hope to look back on this post after a long while and not have anything to add to the bottom part of the list, but without regret what would spur us on to try new things and learn from our inevitable mistakes?

Un-regretfully yours,

The Bacon Lady

Dream on

(NOTE: A friend and I started a "Blog Challenge" blog here to make each other write something every day this year. I'm cross posting this here because I liked it...and I'm being lazy. I'm sorry. I won't make a habit of it...or maybe I will. Get off my back.)


For my 8th graduation gift, my parents bought me my very own "stereo system". It was basically just a glorified boom box with detachable speakers. I was elated.

Growing up with super religious parents, I rarely got to hear much of the rock and or roll, save for slumber parties and noisy neighbors. My very own radio/tape deck/record player was my chance to venture into the land of music not signing the accolades of ourlordandsaviour.

The very first thing I did was beg for a ride to the mall to pick out a record of my very own. And the choice was obvious.

The summer between my 7th and 8th grade years was a tumultuous one. For reasons better discussed at a later date, my family moved from southern California to northwest Indiana to live with my Grandparents.

The only saving grace was that my cousin, a year older than me, lived there. Thankfully we got along famously.

She introduced me around to all her friends, reveling in the fact that I was her "cousin from California" as if I possessed some kind of magical power. I enjoyed to attention I got, especially when it came to a certain boy.

This kid was a grade A delinquent, and I was smitten. Like most stories in the treasure trove of my personal life, this one didn't end well. That didn't stop me from pining away for the rest of the summer and even after we moved to the Chicago suburbs that August.

When I first heard the song on the radio, it broke my fragile little 13 year old heart into a million pieces. In my mind, this was "our song", and I pretended that when he heard it, he thought the same thing.

After setting up my shiny new audio system and convincing my Mom I had to go buy a record right that minute, I used what was left of my graduation money to buy a 45 of "Angel" by Aerosmith.

I heard that song on the radio the other day and immediately cringed with embarrassment. The whole summer came flooding back in a wave of nauseated nostalgia.

The boy that I thought I was just dying to be with really was a juvenile delinquent, with a record to prove it. After I moved away, he was arrested for throwing a hammer at the conductor in a passing train.

I don't know what happened to the 45, but that boom box came with me when I went away to college.

Unfortunately, so did my taste for delinquents.